


Spoiled

by signifying_nothing



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aged up characters, M/M, bottom!atsushi, clothesburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: Tatsuya liked helping Atsushi. Having Atsushi, spoiling Atsushi, treating him like the kid he'd never really been allowed to be.Tatsuya liked candy-sweet kisses and the knowledge that Atsushi wanted to be with him whenever he could. Being with Atsushi made him feel good like being with Taiga used to, back when they were still kids.





	Spoiled

**Author's Note:**

> more self indulgent KnB stuff  
> no one will ever be able to convince me that himuro tatsuya bottoms for murasakibara atsushi.

Himuro Tatsuya couldn't help but smile as he walked past the gymnasium. It was late, but Atsushi was still in there—running sprints and dribbling, from the sound of squeaking shoes. He was always looking to strengthen his legs. Even three years after that defeat at the Winter Cup at the hands of Kuroko Tetsuya, Atsushi had been... Extremely invested in practice. He had the natural talent, the height and ferocity when it came right down to it, but his legs... Oh, his legs.

He'd never really forgiven himself for his knees giving out at the worst possible moment. Tatsuya knew, because Atsushi was nothing if not childlike, and he tended to fixate. They'd managed to drag him into something like a normal training regimen, but he was always doing the extra work to make sure his legs never again failed him at a crucial moment.

“Atsushi,” he called from the doorway, leaning into the jamb. Atsushi turned to look at him through the fall of his sweaty hair, his eyes confused and curious. Such a child.

“Murochin,” he said, standing up straight, blinking and tipping his head to one side. “Shouldn't you be at home?”

“Shouldn't you?” Tatsuya asked, pushing away from the door. “Go get showered, huh? I'll clean up out here.”

“I'm not done...” Atsushi said, looking around at the basketballs strewn about the floor.

“Yes, you are,” Tatsuya said, with firmness. “You've been in here for hours and overworking your knees isn't going to help, Atsushi. Come on, go get cleaned up and I'll walk you home.”

“...Okay...”

Atsushi grabbed a towel, wiped at his face as he walked back into the locker room and Tatsuya sighed, indulgently. He picked up the basketballs, put them back into the storage room. By the time he was done Atsushi was standing on the side of the gym in jeans and a sweater that looked like it had once belonged to a grandfather, sucking at a lollipop that seemed minuscule in his giant hand. He looked at Tatsuya, who waved him over.

“Come on,” he said, and Atsushi followed him like he had almost every day for the last three years. He walked very slowly to make sure he didn't overtake Tatsuya, but Tatsuya was paying very close attention to the way Atsushi's big body moved, the sway of his weight. His knees ached, that much was obvious.

“Why don't you stay the night,” Tatsuya said, as they approached his apartment building. “I'll massage your knees, huh?”

“They don't hurt, Murochin...” Atsushi said, and he probably believed himself. Tatsuya gave a good-natured sigh and thought of how many other basketball players had said the same thing only to collapse under their own weight in the middle of a game.

“They will later, if you don't take care of them now. In.”

He didn't have to push Atsushi in the door—Atsushi walked in on his own, ducking under every doorway until they reached Tatsuya's apartment. It was a nice place—big, clean, open. Atsushi liked it because he didn't have to stoop, he'd once told Tatsuya. And the bath was big enough for him to sit in, even if he had to have his knees up against his chest.

He sat down in the middle of the carpeted living room, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He almost seemed like he was pouting, which amused Tatsuya to no end. He headed into the kitchen, where he gathered up a few sweets as a reward for Atsushi (for following him without causing a fuss) and headed back into the living room.

Atsushi had pulled off his jacket and long pants, his hair a damp, fluffy mess and his eyes tired. Tatsuya wondered if anyone else could _tell_ when Atsushi was tired—he was so much taller than the rest of them and his eyes were so high up, who could see if they were red and swollen.

“Murochin,” Atsushi said, as Tatsuya came closer and was not surprised at all by the way Atsushi wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his cheek to Tatsuya's hip. “I'm tired.”

“I can tell,” Tatsuya said, petting the top of Atsushi's head like he was a small child. “I can tell you're tired, Atsushi. Let me take care of your knees and you can have a nap, okay? Promise.”

“With you?”

“With me,” he nodded, giving Atsushi's hair one more ruffle when the young man obediently let go of his legs. Tatsuya stuck a lollipop into his mouth and smiled, moving to kneel on the floor and get to work on Atsushi's legs.

He'd finally caved to Atsushi last year—after months of listening to him mumble and fuss, of watching his blushes and fumbling, Tatsuya had finally just leaned in to give Atsushi the kiss he'd so clearly wanted but been unable to ask for, when he was sitting on the floor watching a music program. Tatsuya had simply bent over and pressed his lips to the corner of Atsushi's mouth, and the young man's eyes had been big as quarters for a moment, startled. _Such a kid._ It was cute. Atsushi was cute, despite his height and breadth. He'd finally kissed him and Atsushi had looked up at him and...

Tatsuya rubbed Atsushi's knees and calves. Rubbed down the aching musculature and listened to Atsushi's little hisses and whines of pain which were mostly just for show. Tatsuya wasn't hurting him. He kept the motions steady and firm and repetitive until Atsushi finally wiggled a little, bored. He got up with a sigh and toweled any remaining massage oil off of Atsushi's bare legs and looked at him with a tolerant smile. Atsushi was, as he'd expected, blushing. He was always blushing when Tatsuya finished up with his legs. It was a very intimate touch, Tatsuya thought, especially to a young man whom most people wouldn't dare get near, because of his size.

“Murochin,” Atsushi said, very softly. “I'm tired.”

“Let me get you a pillow and blanket, okay?”

Tatsuya's bed was _far_ too small for Atsushi to be comfortable. The rug in the living room was plush and soft, and if Tatsuya put down a blanket it was perfect; Atsushi preferred a firm mattress, though Tatsuya was of the impression that might have been because he'd probably been sleeping on the floor since he was fourteen, too tall for any bed his parents could provide, if they provided one for him at all.

Tatsuya wrinkled his nose at the thought as he grabbed the spare pillows and blankets, dragging them out into the living room. He banished the scowl from his face and smiled at Atsushi who was already standing up, reaching out arms to help him. Together they put the blankets down, and Atsushi sat, pulling off his sweater, and then his t-shirt, leaving him only in his tank-top and briefs, his shorts already discarded.

“Murochin,” he said, flushed. Tatsuya didn't laugh—he never did, not wanting to hurt Atsushi's feelings when he was aroused after something so chaste as a massage.

“Sit down,” Tatsuya said, pulling his shirt over his head. Atsushi did just that, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs stretched out in front of himself, the bulge in his underwear not hidden at all. Tatsuya already knew what was beneath the cloth—he'd seen Atsushi naked before, of course. But it embarrassed Atsushi to be completely undressed, and Tatsuya would never dream of asking him to 'get naked' the way Taiga might ask Tetsuya. ...Or, Tetsuya might ask Taiga, actually. Or Daiki.

No, Tatsuya and Atsushi had their own way of doing things, and as Tatsuya stepped out of his jeans he made himself comfortable on Atsushi's lap, facing him, upper arms reading on his shoulders, fingers curled into that soft mess of lavender hair. Atsushi sighed in relief, dropping his head to Tatsuya's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist, holding his own elbows as he pulled Tatsuya in close.

The result of that tug was Tatsuya's smaller body being pulled up Atsushi's, and the taller man freezing in place with a shudder. Tatsuya heard him take a breath in and smiled, bending his head to kiss Atsushi's ear. “Feels good?” he asked, like he always did. Atsushi made a little noise and nodded, hugging Tatsuya closer but not restricting his movements. Tatsuya sighed and rocked himself back and forth, felt Atsushi's groin beneath his own, Atsushi's breath tasting like a cherry lollipop against his neck and jaw. For a long few minutes Tatsuya just rocked, straddling Atsushi's lap and dragging their erections together through the cotton of their underclothes, listening to Atsushi pant and gasp and feeling him shiver. For all that Atsushi was huge and dominating on a basketball court... The bedroom was another matter entirely.

“Murochin,” he whined, very quietly.

“Not enough today?” Tatsuya asked, voice sweet and tolerant as Atsushi shook his head and slowly let go of him. Tatsuya moved away, let Atsushi lay on the floor and bend his legs, spreading his thighs open as he laid out on the blanket. Tatsuya smiled down at him, got between his legs and settled comfortably between those long thighs. Atsushi shivered, his fingers tugging on the blanket as Tatsuya bent forward and kissed his cotton-covered chest, very gently. The resulting push between his legs made him jerk up.

“It's okay?” Tatsuya asked, and smiled when Atsushi nodded, blushed pink, lip bitten. Tatsuya sat up—put his hands on the insides of Atsushi's thighs and started to rock his hips, to roll his groin forward—the motions of sex with no penetration, without even skin touching. Atsushi whined a little, twisted his long torso and pulled at the blankets with balled fists.

“Don't rip them,” Tatsuya said, reaching to bring Atsushi's hands to his own, holding his thighs. He thrust forward, his erection cradled between Atsushi's legs. The cotton was dry and hot but getting easier to move against as Atsushi got harder, as he started to try pushing up against him. Someday they would have sex, Tatsuya thought. When Atsushi was sure he wanted to. He would _feel_ Atsushi, be inside of him, as close as they could possibly be.

But even now, as he looked up at Atsushi, he didn't know how it could be better than this. Atsushi was staring at him, eyes wide and bright as Tatsuya thrust against him, as he strained to open his legs wider to let him in closer. His underwear had a telling wet spot near the top of his bulge, and as Tatsuya reached down to touch it Atsushi jerked up, thighs trying to close and unable to do so around Tatsuya's narrow hips.

“Tatsu,” Atsushi said, his voice strained and a little weak. Tatsuya let his fingers and palm cradle around that wet spot, rubbing, even as he pushed his hips forward harder, feeling his own erection starting to strain under Atsushi's voice, his panting, his little grunts and gasps as he tried to get Tatsuya closer, closer, _closer._

Something about having that much power and grace beneath him, bending to him, _pleading_ for him, made Tatsuya's head spin. He thrust harder, rubbed harder, listened and felt as Atsushi's hips lifted from the floor, as his head tipped back and his erection twitched under Tatsuya's hand. He felt Atsushi cum with a gasp, his hands grabbing Tatsuya's hips to drag him in closer.

“Tatsuya,” he whispered, _whimpered,_ as he sat up on his elbows and shivered with post-coital aftershock while Tatsuya thrust hard against him three or four more times. With a staggered gasp— _atsushi—_ Tatsuya shoved close, grabbing Atsushi by the hair and yanking him in for a kiss, panting his name as he came in a hot, shivering rush.

Atsushi tasted like cherry candy, and his mouth was soft and sweet. His eyes were closed, his body trembling just slightly and completely, utterly relaxed. They stayed that way for a moment, kissing, until Atsushi whined and Tatsuya pulled away, letting him lay back onto the bed.

Atsushi was panting, flushed and a little embarrassed as Tatsuya got up and reached for one of the towels he'd grabbed—pulling off his own underwear and wiping himself down. Atsushi blushed _furiously,_ looking away as Tatsuya did the same to him—holding his softening length very gently, so as not to overstimulate him.

With the towel—and their underwear—tossed away, Tatsuya grabbed the second blanket and pulled it over their bodies. They laid face to face, with Atsushi's nose against Tatsuya's neck—a position Tatsuya knew from experience would leave them both feeling very comfortable and safe. Atsushi sighed quietly.

“Murochin,” he asked, his voice light.

“Mm?”

“...I like you a lot,” he said, and Tatsuya smiled. Atsushi always said that. It was affirmation in a way. He liked Tatsuya this much, so much as to let him do this, let him get this close. It was a big deal. Tatsuya knew that.

“I like you a lot too, Atsushi,” he promised, kissing the top of his head. “You're my favorite.”

“More than Gamichin,” Atsushi asked, and Tatsuya could practically _feel_ the little frown on Atsushi's face.

“More than Taiga,” he promised. “But you can't tell him. Hes still my best friend, Atsushi.”

“Mmm.” It wasn't a pleased noise, but Atsushi settled down, his heavy arm braced around Tatsuya's waist. For a long while Tatsuya just laid there and played with Atsushi's hair, long after his friend's breathing had leveled out into sleep. Sometimes he wondered what he was doing, catering to Atsushi like this, spoiling and being in a relationship with him like this. But then he thought that maybe it was because he really did _like_ taking care of Atsushi, who needed him to keep him on track, to take care of himself.

Tatsuya had a sneaking suspicion that Atsushi was very used to being left on his own to figure things out, bumbling through his classes where his dyslexia made him struggle more than the rest of his classmates, being such a natural at basketball that it was easy as breathing, and suffering because of the dichotomy between the two, the huge gap in ease. When Atsushi woke up, it was likely they'd do homework—Tatsuya would walk Atsushi through the assignments, Atsushi's natural skill for observation would help. He'd only just gotten diagnosed with dyslexia last year, after Tatsuya's insistence that he get tested when failing grades threatened his place on the team, _generation of miracles_ or not.

Tatsuya liked helping Atsushi. Having Atsushi, spoiling Atsushi, treating him like the kid he'd never really been allowed to be.Tatsuya liked candy-sweet kisses and the knowledge that Atsushi wanted to be with him whenever he could. Being with Atsushi made him feel _good_ like being with Taiga used to, back when they were still kids. It was that same unadulterated joy.

He kissed Atsushi's head one more time, closed his eyes. Atsushi's breathing was easy and steady against his neck, and it lulled him into sleep.

 


End file.
